


Moment of Madness

by leekycauldron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bored Draco, Enemies to Friends, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Swearing, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leekycauldron/pseuds/leekycauldron
Summary: Harry would take great pleasure in sleeping away the entirety of Professor Binns' History of Magic class, in fact he's quite certain that's what he's going to do until a perfectly folded origami figure lands on the desk beside him.A tale in which mind-numbing boredom causes two enemies to become (almost) friendly.





	

Surviving a class on barely 4 hours of sleep is difficult and Harry’s sure that sitting through two and half hours of Professor Binns drone on about the great Giant Wars of the nineteenth century is even more difficult to survive than any other class. In fact, Harry’s not even sure he _can_ survive because the fact that these wars ‘are a prime example of bellicose conflict which hold a significant place in the history of the Wizarding World’ doesn’t seem nearly as important to Harry as it should do. But Harry can’t find it in him to care, not when the Professor’s monotonous voice is enough to make his eyelids heavy and there’s no way he can take notes when the words blur on his page.

Usually, Harry would spend History of Magic lessons playing hangman on the corner of his parchment with Ron beside him; no one could see, they sit at the back of the class room and Professor Binns is so caught up in the textbook that he most likely wouldn’t look up even if someone dropped dead in front of him. Harry finds mild amusement in that thought since everyone knows Professor Binns wasn’t even aware of his own death when he woke up one day and began teaching as a ghost – what Harry would give to feel that blissfully oblivious.

The professor’s words have started to slur together as Harry’s mind gets more distant, his eyes closed now as he rests his head on his arm, his head tilted to the side so that if the professor weren’t to look up, he wouldn’t see that Harry was asleep. Because he’s falling asleep and his eyelids are so heavy he couldn’t bear to keep them open anymore; it’s so relaxing, so relieving, so-. Harry’s thoughts of just how comfortable he’s feeling right now are halted by the sound of parchment fluttering on the desk beside him. Assuming Ron has finally awoken and decided he wants to play hangman now, Harry begrudgingly opens his eyes, slightly annoyed that he couldn’t rest for longer but he supposes it’s for the best.

Except Ron’s breath is still heavy beside him and Harry notices that perched on the side of his desk, just next to where his head had been, is a small origami bird. Three guesses as to who that’s from, Harry thinks to himself with a roll of his eyes; he doesn’t even bother to look in Malfoy’s direction as he reaches out to open the note. He’s certain it’s from Malfoy, he’s sent a note like this once before and besides, Harry can feel his eyes on him from the desk to his right but he ignores it, unfolding the note without even a glance in that direction.

_bored potter? lets hope old binns doesnt notice… would be terrible to see someone as precious as ‘the chosen one’ get detention._

Harry practically fights the urge to bang his head on the desk from irritation. He’d been waiting for Malfoy to pick up on all the ‘Chosen One’ shit the Prophet had been spouting off, now he has to put up with that prick’s incessant teasing on top of the rest of the school whispering every time he walks past. Brilliant. Harry scrunches up the piece of parchment and shoves it in the pocket of his robes, refusing to even acknowledge Malfoy with the hopes that he’d direct his boredom on to someone else.

Another piece of parchment levitates onto his desk and Harry sees it’s not folded in some obnoxiously fancy origami figure this time, instead folded messily into a square just small enough for it to not be noticed as it quickly flies across the gap in between their desks.

_so we’ve taken to ignoring people these days have we? Is the chosen one above all of us commoners now his face is plastered all over the daily prophet every day?_

Harry scowls at the message as he reads it – no but I’m definitely prone to ignoring self-righteous arseholes like you, Harry thinks to himself but he doesn’t write it. He contemplates even writing anything at all but knowing Malfoy, he wouldn’t stop sending them until Harry rose to the bait and Harry was already hooked on. He was too tempted to retort that he just couldn’t refuse.

_sounds like you spend a lot of time reading about me in the prophet malfoy. Im flattered honestly._

Harry scribbles the message on the same bit of spare parchment that Malfoy wrote on before, his handwriting noticeably messy underneath the other boy’s near-perfect words. That’s typical of him, Harry thinks. As much as he dislikes the boy, Harry can’t deny that practically everything he does is as near to perfect as you can get – perfect test scores, perfect handwriting, perfect fucking uniform (there’s never a button undone or tie slightly out of place). And no, it’s not like Harry pays attention to that, of course he doesn’t, but it’s hard to not notice it. Mindlessly, Harry flicks his wand slightly to levitate the parchment back to Malfoy who’s eyes seem to light up just at the fact he’s got a response, Harry notices the way his mouth curls into a sly smirk as he reads the words and picks up his quill.

_you wish potter. I think you’ll find I spend half my mornings trying to avoid seeing your face on everyone’s newspapers. shame I have to see it so much in real life._

A roll of his eyes is Harry’s initial response as he dares a look in Malfoy’s direction, excepting him to have that familiar snarl on his face but he’s not even looking over at Harry. Instead, he’s feigning interest in the class and Harry almost admires the way he’s able to pretend to know what’s going on so easily – Harry knows that he himself looks lost in most classes at the best of times.

Harry chews the bottom of his lip as he contemplates the best way to get under Malfoy’s skin, he thinks he prefers this to shouting in the corridors, there’s more time to really think about what he’s going to say. In the end he decides that the best way to really get to the boy beside him is to act as though he doesn’t care, act disinterested because one thing he knows about Malfoy is that he _loves_ knowing his words are getting to Harry and Harry isn’t going to give him what he wants.

_hm okay then._

Malfoy puts the parchment down on the desk beside him after he’s read and Harry has to supress a smirk as he watches the blond from the corner of his eye. There’s nothing he can say to that. Harry essentially just ended the conversation in three words but Harry also knows that it’s not going to be over because Malfoy won’t let Harry think he’s got the upper hand. He watches as the boy picks up his quill hesitantly, unsure as to whether replying will make it seem as though Harry won or if ignoring will make it seem like Harry won. Harry thinks it’s a win-win either way for him but Malfoy obviously thinks otherwise as he’s put the quill down now and his wand flicks the parchment back to Harry.

_besides, my family have been in the prophet HUNDREDS of times. you’re not special._

It’s bizarre to Harry how predictable Malfoy is to him, he could have put money on Malfoy bringing his family into this at some point – the stuck-up prat can’t stop himself from showing off – except Harry wouldn’t ever waste his money. Harry doesn’t respond this time, he just leaves the note on the desk and directs his gaze to the front of the classroom. But Harry can practically feel Malfoy’s irritation radiating off of him, he’s hyper-aware of the glares that keep being shot in his direction before yet another piece of parchment lands beside him.

_don’t ignore me_

Just two more minutes before another lands.

_potter_

Merlin, he really is feeling particularly annoying today, Harry thinks as he decides to play up to Malfoy’s need to get his attention. Harry lets out a yawn, it’s completely fake because since they’ve started sending these notes Harry’s woken up significantly. Nonetheless, he rests his head on his arm again, his eyes fluttering closed the same as earlier, before parchment lands on his desk again. Although not before it hits his face causing his eyes to fly open, they meet Malfoy’s gaze as he stares back in amusement. Amusement. Harry doesn’t think he’s witnessed that emotion on Malfoy’s face, usually it’s disgust or anger or some other negative word that is associated with the boy. And Harry’s not entirely sure when this exchange became a little friendlier than usual but it certainly feels that way.

_POTTER STOP BEING FUCKING LAZY!_

Harry’s lips curl a little at the edges as he reads that message, noticing the slightest hint of a smile on Malfoy’s lips as well. Not that the note was particularly funny, they just both know Harry wasn’t really asleep and they both know that the attempt at acting so failed miserably.

_are you really that bored that you’re resorting to literally throwing insults at me on pieces of spare parchment?_

Harry notices the way Malfoy very-nearly-almost-but-not-quite laughs at the message and Harry also notices that he very-nearly-almost-but-not-quite feels happy about that fact before he snaps himself out of it because he doesn’t like Malfoy. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just strange to have this new dynamic where they aren’t actively telling the other they hate them – it’s strange and it’s only because they have no one else to talk to.

_yes I am really that bored so humour me. if you’ve got anything better in mind I’d be happy to hear your suggestions. only if it doesn’t involve sleeping. or ignoring me. because we already established you can’t do either of those things_

Harry has to tear a new bit of parchment now, the previous one is full from the notes and so he hurriedly writes a response. A response that maybe isn’t a peace offering in the slightest, in fact, it’s far from it but Harry’s decided he’s not in the mood to spark up another argument right now given how tired he is.

_how about not arguing? it seems pretty ineffective trying to do it on a piece of parchment. not the same when I cant hear how much your voice infuriates me_

Malfoy smirks at his parchment as he reads Harry’s response, not even hesitating to think before he starts to write and Harry mentally kicks himself at the fact he’s probably writing a spiteful response; telling Malfoy not to do something is probably the exact same a leaving a slab of raw meat in front of a werewolf and hoping they wouldn’t eat it – impossible to resist. So much for the not-so-peaceful peace offering.

_infuriates you? and here i was thinking you get all red and flustered because you think im sexy not because you’re angry. shame._

Harry’s blood runs cold as he reads the words and he’s sure it’s clear on his face, the way his features drop instantly. Yes, Harry’s gay, he’s known that fact for a while now and really only a select few people know; those select few consisting of only Ron, Hermione and Sirius. But- but Harry can’t stop his heart from speeding up because is this Malfoy’s way of telling him that he knows his secret? That would be a disaster, yet another insult for him to throw around. Fuck, what if he told everyone? What if Draco fucking Malfoy was the one who outed Harry Potter to the rest of the Wizarding World? The thought sends shivers down Harry’s spine. And maybe as a gay man, Harry can appreciate the fact that Draco Malfoy is really bloody attractive and if he wasn’t such a dick he might even go as far as to say he’s beautiful but the fact is, there’s no way Malfoy could have found out about this. Harry’s overreacting, he knows deep down that what Malfoy said was nothing meaningful, just a few words scribbled down in the spur of the moment and Harry tries his best to calm himself from his panic as he responds.  

_fuck off malfoy_

Malfoy responds in literally a matter of seconds, no less than a minute.

_there we go! told you its easy to argue this way. anyone would think its true given how defensive you’re getting_

It’s not true. Not true whatsoever. From an objective standpoint, Malfoy is attractive – anyone would admit that he is. But that _doesn’t_ mean Harry gets flustered around him, it _certainly_ doesn’t mean Harry thinks of him as sexy. But when he glances over to Malfoy, the blond catches his gaze with a teasing wink meant only to annoy Harry but Harry… well, Harry is mortified at the way his face seems to heat up, his stomach swirling and Merlin, what is Malfoy doing to him? Harry drags his gaze away and back to the parchment, a feeling of absolute discomfort settling at the pit of stomach because he can’t quite believe his own emotions and how the hell did a few passive aggressive notes lead to Harry being so confused?

_no you’re just irritating. shut up._

Once Malfoy’s finished writing, Harry is almost one hundred percent certain he hears a small chuckle from the desk beside him. He briefly decides that he really enjoys that sound, more than he probably should, and there’s yet another blush creeping onto Harry’s cheeks. This needs to stop now. He needs to get the hell out of this classroom, away from Malfoy until he’s feeling sane enough to hate the boy again.

_relax potter. Im not gonna shout out to the whole class that you fancy me_

_I DON’T FANCY YOU!_

Harry flicks his wand slightly more urgently than he has been before and Malfoy notices because he’s practically beaming with satisfaction – that dick is loving this, Harry thinks.

_ok potter whatever you say_

And when he reads Malfoy’s reply, his shoulders tense along with his jaw because Malfoy is so irritating and infuriating and so Harry writes the first two words that enter his mind.

_fuck you_

_yes potter, I already know you want to fuck me. I found that out when I decided that you fancy me._

As arrogant as Malfoy’s response is, as inexplicably annoying his smirk is from the corner of Harry’s eye, Harry finds himself letting out a snort of laughter as he reads the message. And Harry isn’t sure he finds the joke about fucking the funniest or the fact that Malfoy has apparently ‘decided’ that Harry fancies him but it’s more relief than anything because Malfoy doesn’t know he’s gay, Harry knows that for sure now. The last sentence confirmed the fact that Malfoy was talking shit for the past ten minutes. Feeling significantly more relaxed than before, Harry picks up his quill.

_you’re such a-_

“Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter!” Professor Binns’ voice echoes around the room and Harry’s head shoots up from looking down at the parchment so fast he’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash. People’s heads are turning now, eyeing them both carefully and as Harry glances at Malfoy, he notices the way his cheeks are tinted with the slightest shade of pink – Harry’s sure they’re both thinking the exact same thing; how fucking embarrassing for them to both be mentioned in the same sentence in front of the whole class. “Clearly you think passing notes in the back of my class important enough to not pay attention… perhaps you’d care to read them to the rest of the group?”

Harry shakes his head, his heart speeding up a little because there’s no way Ron would ever let him live it down if he heard what they’d been writing. He’d no doubt be questioned about this later in the common room anyway and he supposed he could just pass it off as Malfoy sending childish drawings again but that couldn’t happen if Ron knew the truth, he’d have reason to make fun of  Harry probably until the end of term. “No Professor, it’s not important. Sorry.”

“Very well but I expect to see you both in detention after class.” Harry merely nods in response, quickly scrunching up the parchment and stuffing it into his robes with the rest of the pieces; he’d definitely Incendio those tonight. Ron is shooting a questioning stare at Harry, one eyebrow raised as he waits for an explanation that Harry certainly can’t give now he’s under the watchful stare of the Professor. Instead he shrugs his shoulders, almost a way of telling Ron that Malfoy was being typical Malfoy without using words and Ron gets it, shooting a quick scowl over Harry’s shoulder at Malfoy before resting his head back down to sleep.

“Nice going, Potter.” Malfoy whispers with a sharp hint of malice on his tongue and Harry rolls his eyes, acting as though he didn’t hear a word otherwise. This is better, this is normal. Harry thinks he’s never going to get that friendly with Malfoy again and he is completely okay with that fact. Completely okay with the idea of repressing whatever the hell felt for the Slytherin on the desk beside him for the rest of life; this was a moment of madness, he decides, utter madness.


End file.
